Page 67 of Ready or Knot

He presses his forehead into my belly, muttering something I can’t understand.

“What did you say?” I ask.

He glances up, his lips pulled into a wry grin. “Just admitting out loud I’ve never had a better knotting in my life.”

My smile is bright, satisfaction making me preen, and he laughs.

“Come to work with me?” he asks, tracing circles along my hip. “I don’t have any appointments.”

Biting my lip, I adjust under him, rolling my hips, and he groans, low in his throat.

“Sounds fun,” I say, and he kisses my navel. My body clenches.

Maybe there’ll be time for an interesting lunch, too.

Twenty-Seven

JUDE

Three knocks on my door have me looking up from the syllabus I’m proofreading, my frown deep. It grows even more pronounced when I see who’s standing in the threshold to my office.

“What do you need?” I ask, not bothering to be polite.

Melanie purses her lips and takes a step inside, adjusting the door so that it’s halfway closed, blocking her body from the hallway. Unease has me standing and rounding the desk, closing the drawer that has Faedra’s bag in it. Scowling, I cross my arms and lean against the front of my desk, crossing my ankles.

“Was your hiking trip decent this year?” Her voice is nearly sickly sweet, her eyes large as she scans my office with a keen eye she hasn’t bothered with in several months—a year, probably. My skin crawls under the scrutiny. I adjust where I lean, making sure I can see out the door. “Seemed like an interesting time.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to remember if Doug posted our group to the organization’s social medias. Melanie raises an eyebrow, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and I force a swallow.

“It was good,” I tell her, trying to distract her as she takes another step into my office, her hands resting on the back of one of the chairs, her fingers tapping on the fabric. “Backpacking is always enjoyable.”

Simple, easy information that anyone would be welcome to know. Melanie hums, flipping her hair again, leaning over the back of the chair enough that it pulls the neckline of her blouse taught.

Bile rises to the back of my throat, and I clench my fists, the bite of my nails in my skin keeping me from completely losing my shit.

“What do you need, Melanie?” I ask, my voice dropping in irritation. “I have work to finish.”

“Do you?” she asks, rounding the chair, standing directly in front of me. “From what Harper tells me, there’s some pretty interesting work happening at Carter’s office. I wonder if you’ve decided to share his little whore, too, like you’ve shared everything else?”

Anger rises, swift and fierce, and I pull back my lip, snarling, “Call her a whore again, and you’ll regret it.”

Melanie reels back like I’ve struck her. Her eyes narrow as she recovers a moment later, and she runs her fingers down my arm, wrapping them around my wrist, trying to encourage my touching her. I resist, keeping my arms locked around my chest, and she pouts when I don’t concede to her.

“Maybe I should remind you of last month? You were more than willing to entertain me then. Maybe you’ve just forgotten how good we are,” she says, and then she’s stepping into my own space, running her hand up my arm and grasping my neck, her thumb digging into the pulse point below my ear. She’s crashing her lips to mine before I can push her away, her body pressed against mine, her eyes fluttering shut as she moans. It takes a moment for the shock to break through, and then I’m glancing at the doorway.

Faedra stands just outside the door, paler than I’ve ever seen her, her hands pressed against her belly, her green eyes wide and glassy with tears. The anger burns through me hotter, and I push Melanie away, not attempting to help her as she stumbles back into one of the chairs and trips over it. She grabs onto the back at the last moment, sputtering, but I don’t look at her, keeping my eyes locked on Faedra.

“Get the fuck out, Melanie,” I growl. Faedra steps to the side as Melanie continues sputtering, but I hold out my hand in silent invitation. Her throat ripples with a delicate swallow, and she blinks several times, the tears disappearing as she takes a deep breath. Another long moment, and she opens the door wider and walks to me, taking an exaggerated path that avoids Melanie completely.

My chest tightens when she sets her hand on mine and I feel the trembling in her fingers. I close my hand around hers, squeezing tightly, and don’t look at Melanie where she stands awkwardly just behind the chair.

“Get out,” I tell her.

She flips her hair, her gaze narrowing on Faedra, her lips screwed up into a grimace. “So desperate you had to scalp the arts department? Just wait, girl, he’ll get bored of you, too. He never commits, especially to such desperate whores like you.”

She turns on her heel and storms from my office as Faedra twists to see her, eyes wide again, her mouth open in shock. When she doesn’t say anything after a few minutes, I run my thumb across her knuckles and murmur her name. She flinches, glancing back at me, and I palm her cheek, moving slow enough that she can pull away if she prefers. Her eyes flood with tears again, and I curse, stepping into her.

“Faedra,” I say, but she talks over me.

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